Before Salvation
by justicejustice
Summary: First abondonment, now betrayal? About what Kratos is thinking and feeling before the group's first visit to the Tower of Salvation. Oneshot. R&R please!


Before Salvation

The fire crackled and shared its bright benevolent heat with the cold travelers huddled around it. Its golden radiance mirrored by the uncountable magnitude of shining stars strewn across the opaque sky above. The group was odd and varied, the experienced and naïve tied together by friendship and a shared dependency upon one another. There were two silver haired "elves", bickering with each other in an agitated, yet familial way over the proper way to prepare a simple stew.

"You can't put THAT in there Raine! Do you want to kill us?" The shorter, blue-garbed half-elf assumed an agitated stance, with fists balled and pressed against his hips.

"Genis, you're just afraid to experiment! If you don't try manipulating any variables every once and a while, you'll never arise upon any conclusions!" The eyes of the orange clothed professor glowed with an excitement and enthusiasm that often masked her common sense when dealing with such mundane tasks as preparing a simple dinner. And before the exasperated youth could utter another word or even flinch, several wedges of lime and a pickle were tossed into the already dubious looking liquid simmering above the fire.

The silver-headed boy groaned, and fell back onto his haunches, covering his face with his hands and turning towards the snapping flames, giving up on his lost case of a sister. The normally level-headed and logical woman turned to rummage through what they had left in their food stores, no doubt looking for more "variables to manipulate".

Situated on the other side of the fire a spiky haired brunette wearing red clothing with black overalls chatted away happily to a sweet faced blonde who watched him with innocent light blue eyes. The petite girl would smile occasionally and grasp the other's hand, using her index finger to carve her addition to the conversation into the boy's glove. The two merrily chattered away in this manner, either completely oblivious to or purposefully ignoring the culinary power struggle taking place a mere four feet from them.

Next to the teenaged male, a raven haired and well proportioned female sat cross legged, with her face tilted down towards the hot coals beneath the fire. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, and her eyes had a distant, unsure look to them. Her hands were resting loosely on her thighs, and she seemed to be deep in thought, not bothering to participate in the conversation taking place next to her.

They were all huddled there, as they had every night of their long and, at times, emotional journey. However, tonight had a different, slightly tight and stressed tension about it; like a giant hourglass of fate was dripping down the last few grains of time they still had left together.

The cold air had a light, but bone chilling breeze that would infrequently blow past the band, making their hair sway and pressing them ever tighter to the flickering heat source that was their focal. Trees loomed around the clearing the group had chosen as the night's camp sight, the brightness of the campfire revealing nothing of the ominous darkness that hid behind the dense foliage. Above the trees, a huge and rocky mountain jutted upwards for the stars, casting shadows over the wilderness it ruled. On this mountain, a meandering trail led up to a small village called Hima, where only the sparkle of a few torches could be seen from the distance the group was resting at. By the end of the next day, the group would arrive at the adventurers' village, where they were to make their final preparations, for beyond that quaint settlement, the Tower of Salvation patiently awaited its next angel.

They sat there, thinking, conversing, and bickering; all except for one.

The night watch sat away from the group, perched on a large boulder, ever vigilant for the malevolent creatures that roamed the untamed wilds of Sylverant. His disheveled, reddish-brown hair covered one of his ruby eyes, yet his vision and awareness were unmarred. If there were a disturbance, his calculating and at times cold gaze would locate and identify it without falter or uncertainty. If ever there were a threat to the death-bound chosen, his angelic sight would seek out, and, with swiftness and skill determined only by thousands of years of rehearsal, eliminate it with a single slash of his sword.

The rest of the group was used to the purple clad man's preference to be alone, and observed and respected his decision to separate himself from them each night. After all, none of them were as willing to stay up watching for monsters ready to decapitate a person as soon as look at them. The man shared little of himself with the group, and asked little of the group in return, only amplifying his mysterious and slightly intimidating aura. He was there to do his job, not begin lifelong relationships or share memories. So, he was left alone most nights to his own devices, everyone in the group minding their own business when he moved off to preserve the monster-less peace the travelers enjoyed while they slept.

All except for one.

"Hey, Kratos. Dinner's ready." The boy in the overalls called from behind the mercenary, and admittedly surprising him. The teen hopped up to where his elder was seated, plopping down next to him, and looking at what could be seen of the mercenary's face for a response.

"… It's all right, I don't have an appetite tonight. You can go back with the others and eat your meal."

"W-well…" The boy looked over his shoulder back at the group. "I'm not sure if I want…" he trailed off.

Kratos looked back at the group. He didn't blame the kid. The ever-polite and selfless Chosen held one of the wooden bowls in her hands, trying hard to sip down a spoonful of the murky liquid filling it. The long-haired elf boy was glaring at his older sister, flat out refusing to eat, and the voluptuous assassin was staring down at what filled her bowl with a frightened and unwilling look. _Ah_, the mercenary recalled, _Rain had said she would cook tonight_.

The seraphim internally chuckled and turned back to his watch. Though he would never let them know it, he had actually enjoyed the time spent with the miss-matched group on this journey. He was surprised the loss of these people in his life was one of the reasons why he was regretful that their journey would soon be over.

But he wasn't only regretful. Regret was only the mildest of emotions beating through his veins lately. In truth, the normally stoic man had not felt as turmoiled and panicked as he did now sense that one blood-stained morning, when he thought he had destroyed all that he had finally begun to live for. After that day, he had ceased to care or feel for anyone. That is, until he came to escort the newest Chosen of the declining world to her end, and had met someone he had thought in all the worlds would never walk again.

The younger swordsman shifted in his seat next to Kratos, looking down at his feet in an awkward way. The mercenary had nearly forgotten the teenager was there in the minutes of silence that had passed between them.

A sigh passed through Kratos' lips. The boy would often go out of his way to spend a little time with him each day. Often, if he was in one of his more annoying moods, the kid would pester the angelic being with questions about his past and interests. Not that Kratos really minded. It was just that none of the other travelers in their little band were brave enough or cared enough to get to know the hired help as Lloyd tried to. Lloyd obviously looked up to the older and wiser swordsman.

This made Kratos feel wonderful and terrible at the same time. Wonderful in that his son actually enjoyed spending time with his father (though this fact was unknown to the boy), and terrible in that it would just be all the more painful for both him and his son when the time came in a few days for the mercenary to reveal his true angelic self to the group and pierce them with the trust and loyalty they had given him.

"What's going to happen after Collette saves Sylvarant?" Lloyd finally broke the silence. But his tone was not joking and carefree as it normally was.

"Well, Sylvarant's mana will be restored, the Desians and monsters will leave, and people will finally be able to live in peace."

"No," Lloyd shook his head. "I knew that. I mean what's going to happen to our group. What are we going to all do after this is over?"

Kratos was afraid of hearing a question like that. "We'll probably go our separate ways." The mercenary answered truthfully. But that wasn't the answer the boy wanted to hear.

"But… You'll still come and train me and we could visit-"

The mercenary cut him off with a quick shake of his head. "No, I don't think that will be possible." Kratos felt horrible rejecting his son this way, even though it was the cold hard truth.

Lloyd's voice rose a little, "But I thought you said you would travel with me! To see the restored world. Remember? You were going to come with me in my boat!" The novice swordsman's eyes were slightly angry and were looking up at the mercenary's face in a half-desperate way.

Kratos silently recalled having an, albeit, one-sided conversation with the boy about their plans for after the world regeneration as they were traveling the fields around Luin. Lloyd had said he would build a boat to see the world in, and had indeed invited the elder to accompany him, though Kratos remembered that he hadn't answered.

"I'm sorry Lloyd, but that won't work out."

"…" The brunette's expression changed from hopeful to despondent. But his stare did not move from the man's face.

Kratos looked back into those bottomless, brown eyes; those eyes that had not changed in their innocence in fourteen long years, and silently cursed himself for doing so. The ill-fated mercenary couldn't help but think back to the happiest three years of his life when he looked into those eyes, and when he reminisced about the times he would never be able to relive, it hurt. It hurt like a nail being slowly hammered deeper into the wound already set there by the sins of his past. For this reason, he tried to avoid looking into those eyes, avoid the boy he so badly wished was his again. He would never again go on a midnight stroll sporting a blissful three year old on his shoulders, looking up at the twinkling night sky, listening to his toddler chatter about catching two of the pretty specks to give to his mommy and daddy. He would never again comfort the boy during the periodic thunderstorms of the lands they traveled as he once did. Never again would he run his fingers through the soft brown hair and delicately explain that the storm would never come to hurt the boy, for his father would never let it.

For this reason, the mercenary chose to not look into those eyes if he could help it, but it often just made the guilt and sadness tugging at his heart magnify. Was he such a coward that he could not face his greatest offense; the abandonment of his only child?

The aching man's hand twitched toward the boy, but he caught himself and rapidly shifted his eyes back to the wilderness he had been surveying, and though his face didn't show it, aghast at his momentary lapse in composure.

"Kratos… Are you ok? You seem kinda… out of it tonight." The youth inquired with a slight shimmer of concern in his eyes, abandoning his recruit with hurt lingering on his face, though the older man did not see.

"I'm fine… But Lloyd, I want you to promise me something."

The young man's eyes widened slightly and he shifted in his seat so that he was leaned in closer to Kratos, obviously anxious to hear what he would say next. Lloyd had always wanted to do something for the man who had saved his life more than once in battle, and who had stayed up more than a few hours with him explaining and showing him sword techniques. If keeping a promise for the man was all he could do to repay him, he would do it.

"Lloyd, promise me that, after the Chosen has restored this world, you won't let go of your ideals." The angel tilted his head up towards the stars, studying them closely. His son's face twisted a bit, curiosity being replaced by confusion. So, Kratos explained further.

"I want you to keep trying to change this world for the better Lloyd. Even when the Desians and monsters leave, there will be strife and crime lingering among the people. Lloyd, never stop trying to protect the innocent and make this world a better place. No matter what happens in the Tower of Salvation…" Kratos looked down at his boots and closed his eyes, "I'm sure your mother would have wanted that for you."

The dual-swordsman straightened up and a wide Lloyd-like grin spread across his face, "Kratos! Of course I'll never change! I'll never stop wanting to help the world and the people in it." His expression changed and determination flashed through the young-man's eyes, and his fists clenched on his lap, "You're right. My mom most definitely would have wanted me to keep this up. I bet she would have really liked you Kratos. I mean, I can't remember her, but it just seems like she would."

Kratos cringed a little at the last bit his son had said. _If only you knew_. He thought to himself, ironically. There was empty silence for a few moments, the only sound coming from the voices of their fellow campers.

"But… Kratos. Why do you think I'd change after Collette becomes an angel? If anything you should be worried about her!" Concern and know a barely noticeable anxiety shadowed his still not quite adult features. "Is something bad going to happen?" Lloyd's jaw tightened and he stared at his role model for an answer.

Kratos was quick to reply this time. "No Lloyd, no," he shook his head and his auburn hair swayed across his face. Kratos was lying now, but the boy couldn't have told. The seraphim looked back into his son's eyes and he gripped the youth's shoulder. Lloyd stiffened a little in surprise as Kratos did this, the man rarely touched him outside of training. "Just promise me. Because I won't always be there to guide you, Lloyd," Kratos' hand dropped from the brunettes shoulder and onto his own lap. "And, just remember that no matter what… I'm proud of you, and always will be." Kratos was no longer looking at Lloyd and he was concentrating on a small firefly rested on a rock a few feet from where they were. Lloyd could tell that this was difficult for the mercenary to express. He was deeply touched.

"I promise." Lloyd answered softly. The purple clothed man's response was a quick nod of the head. "Kratos… Thanks. I feel a little better about all of this now. You've always been there… Thanks." With that said, Lloyd stood up and turned toward the group who were now finished with their "meal" and sleeping soundly in there blankets (with the exception of Colette, who was sitting in the grass next to the green and white protozoan called Noishe, stroking the dog-like head). "I'm gonna go to bed now."

"Of course, it'll be a long hike up to Hima," Kratos stated matter-of-factly. Lloyd groaned in response and shuffled over towards the others to join them.

Lloyd wasn't the only one who felt better. Kratos felt like a one-hundred pound sack of flower had been lifted off of his chest. It had been hard, and completely out of character, but now, Lloyd knew at least a little of how much the mercenary cared about the obtuse optimist who was his only son. Now Kratos at least had Lloyd's word that what he was going to do wouldn't change him. Kratos had feared that he would never work up the courage to express himself before he had to betray the teenager. The separation wouldn't be quite so impossible now, though it would still kill him a little inside. Kratos was thankful for that.

Kratos looked past the god-like mountain and his eyes rested upon the needle-thin line cutting the night sky that was the Tower of Salvation. He would do whatever it takes to bring Yggdrasill and Cruxis down. The swordsman had found one of the things that had turned him against his former pupil those seventeen long years ago. He would not give up this time. He would make up for what he would have to do to his child, he had sworn this to himself long ago.

_Don't let my betrayal change you. Good night… My son._

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**So, thus ends my very first fanfiction! This was mostly the spawn of boredom and lack of Kratos and Lloyd fluff for me to read. I had fun writing it though.**

**But anyway, what do you think of it? Were people OOC? Was it too long? I've never really done this before so constructive criticism is apreciated! Hey, maybe I might decide to write some more if it doesn't stink too badly! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!**


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